


and all that jazz

by rxtrogression



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bartender Draco, Businessman Harry, Jazz Club, Los Angeles, M/M, Slice of Life, Smoking, after the war, bye bye britain, the la la land-esque continuation nobody asked for, unnecessary drama and present tense pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 11:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxtrogression/pseuds/rxtrogression
Summary: "Never thought I'd see you in LA, Potter.""Malfoy?"Or: slices of life in which the boys end up on the sunny west coast, wondering just where the hell their youth went.





	1. Just Another Day of Sun

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know when i fell down this rabbit hole, honestly. 
> 
> here's a chill [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/xretrograde/playlist/5O1pzojSIWbMscZ4Hh2vqx?si=ioebQlszQxCINukfHlAUUQ) if you wanna vibe idk
> 
> un-beta'd, but that might change in the future.

_And when they let you down,_

_you’ll get up off the ground,_

_when morning rolls around_

_and it’s another day of sun._

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, Harry lies on his back, staring at the night sky above him. The clouds are wisps of smoke, black against the midnight blue speckled with quartz. Wind whispers softly, and warm grains of sand tickle the skin behind his ears. It’s a lovely night. 

 

Exhaling, Harry closes his eyes. Today hadn’t been terribly productive; he had met up with Aaron Williams, owner of the jazz club he’d had his eye on and Ilvermorny graduate. Williams wasn’t particularly keen on a Brit possibly getting the property, but agreed that a Hogwarts alumni would be better for the magic-infused building than a muggle. Still, though, the man would have to mull it over. 

 

Harry’s so close, he can taste it.

 

After an eighth year at Hogwarts and the boring beginnings of his career as an auror, Harry Potter had grown tired of England. He’d pulled strings, broke up with Ginny, got in contact with MACUSA, and against his friends’ wishes, caught a plane to Los Angeles.

 

_“What could you possibly do all the way in Los Angeles, Harry?”_ Hermione had bemoaned over the phone. _“Open some jazz bar?”_

 

Joke’s on her. Harry’s _this_ close to owning his own jazz club. He has it all worked out in his head: He’ll play trumpet with the boys, improv on the piano, hire a bartender. Not to mention, he has the whole Potter/Peverell family fortune at his disposal to keep the club running for at least a few years. Hermione calls him every week, tells him everything he’s missing back in London. He’s happy here. 23 years on Earth and _he’s happy here._

 

Or, he will be, when Williams comes around.

 

-

 

_“Draco, darling, you can’t run off to the States,”_ his mother had said, appalled at the thought. 

 

To which Draco had maturely responded: “ _Mother, I’m twenty._ ”

 

He was perfectly capable of ‘running off to the States’. He did, in fact, run off to the States. A final year at Hogwarts and two years of training to be a healer did nothing to quell the dirty looks, the prejudice, the shame. 

 

And so, here he is, a part time jazz singer and bartender at _Aaron’s_ and employee of the year for two years in a row. The year before _Aaron’s_ was spent working the odd gig and sleeping on the couch of a cousin (sometimes his friends, but they didn’t mind, so long as Draco made them breakfast).

 

He loves Los Angeles. Loves his small apartment, loves his Buick Riviera convertible, and loves jazz. 

 

The American Dream isn’t quite like _Gatsby_ these days, nor is it anything like _Salesman,_ but somewhat of an introspective mix of the two. He does well to make connections in the community, slowly building his network. Life is hard, but it’s good. He’s happy. He’s happy and couldn’t ask for anything else. 

 

Maybe if he says it enough, it’ll come true.


	2. Someone In The Crowd

_Is someone in the crowd the only thing you really see?_

_Watching, while the world keeps spinning ‘round?_

_Somewhere, there’s a place where I find who I’m gonna be;_

_a somewhere that’s just waiting to be found._

 

* * *

 

Harry’s friends have… charm, for lack of a better word. Not magical charm; they’re as muggle as they come. But they’re walking paradoxes, equal parts west coast lax and passionately hard-working. Elijah Garcia, a computer programmer and avid lo-fi mixer, was the first friend he had made. The man had been at Starbucks, heard his accent, didn’t question his scar, and introduced him to the world of jazz after he caught Harry staring. They got along easily, Harry had decided. Maybe he had needed a friend just as much as Harry did. Someone in the crowd that could see him for who he was, instead of a mere UCLA dropout. 

 

Elijah is easy smiles and sun-kissed skin. He is sharp wit and perfect pitch, genius to a fault and all the more altruistic for it. 

 

They had been out for drinks when they saved Evelyn Flores (model, beauty YouTuber, and “so, painfully _gay,_ ”) from an older man. She is soft curves and even softer laughter, beach-wave blond hair and wanderlust embodied. She is larger than life, profound in a magnitude incomprehensible. 

 

“ _My heroes,_ ” she had drawled. Banter flowed easily that night, though Harry doesn’t know whether it was the alcohol or not. Regardless, she took him under her wing.

 

And then there were three. 

 

-

 

It had been a hard transition, going from a Malfoy to just another face in the busting streets of LA. That was perfectly alright with him, though. If it meant a stop to the Death Eater sneers, he’d gladly become someone in the crowd.

 

He spent the first year staying with a distant cousin. Evelyn Flores may have been a muggle, magic thoroughly bred out of her bloodline, but she was still a relative, and he wasn’t in the business of complaining— not when he didn’t have his parents to back him up anymore. 

 

She was devastatingly cheerful when he first met her, and remains so to this day. They had a sibling bond after the first few weeks; Draco hasn’t looked back at England since.

 

_Aaron’s_ is a lovely, quiet spot imbued with American magic. That’s the first thing Draco had noticed when he stepped in for an interview with Aaron Williams. Quiet jazz piano was playing through charmed speakers. The cleaning supplies were moving on their own. 

 

“ _I must say, I didn’t imagine being hired by a wizard when I moved,_ ” Draco had said.

 

Aaron had wheezed, half in shock and half in amusement. “ _Ilvermorny?_ ” 

 

“ _No, Hogwarts._ ” 

 

The older man had chuckled to himself, slapped him on the shoulder, and taught him how to work the bar.

 

Another face in the crowd. Another door forward.

 

“ _Welcome to Aaron’s._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i going anywhere substantial with this? maybe, who knows lmfao i'm just out here procrastinating exam review


	3. Harry and Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive my lack of knowledge on LA geography- it's been a few years.

_Si je pouvais crier tout ce que j’ai sur le coeur, j’hurlerais ton nom._

 

* * *

  

“Never thought I’d see you in LA, Potter.”

 

“ _Malfoy?_ ”

 

Harry gawks at the man before him, mouth opening and closing unattractively as he tries to process the scene before him.

 

Draco Malfoy, arch-nemesis of over decade, a bartender in a jazz club? His future jazz club, no less?

 

“I mean,” Harry straightens up in his seat. “I don’t know. I figured—”

 

The blond scoffs, absentmindedly polishing a tumbler. “Music here’s nice. ’Sides, I don’t really have to explain myself to you.”

 

Harry falls into a contemplative silence, trying to think of what he could possibly say. “It’s been a few years since we saw each other last,” he settles for, clumsily sticking a cigarette in his mouth. Draco watches with mild disinterest while the flame from the lighter comes to life and illuminates the sharp curves of Harry’s cheekbones.

 

“Yeah,” he responds. All animosity is dropped from his tone. 

 

Williams emerges from the back room, business smile plastered on his face as he regards Harry. 

 

“Mr. Potter,” he says. “Didn’t know you’d be swingin’ by.”

 

Harry nods, forcing himself to relax. “Just thought I’d appreciate the place a bit more.”

 

“Sure, sure. Sebastian, like your future employer?”

 

It takes a few moments to register who exactly Aaron is referring to, but when it does, Harry can’t keep his grin to himself. Draco looks Harry up and down, a strange glint in his eyes.

 

“Indeed.”

 

-

 

“So…” Harry muses, outside the bar with Draco as he closes up. “Sebastian, huh?”

 

“Sod off, Potter,” the blond _harrumphs,_ turning on his heel and walking down the street. Nightlife in these parts of LA isn't terribly busy, the lights glowing softly from their perches and the warm air settling comfortably around them. 

 

Harry jogs to catch up, falling in step with his old rival. “Whoa, hey, don’t you wanna tell me how you ended up here?” Draco turns his head and raises a brow.

 

“Not particularly, no.”

 

He turns to face forward again. Still, he doesn’t complain about Harry’s company, and they walk in an awkward silence.

 

“You’re doing alright though, right—?” Harry winces at the uncertainty in his voice.

 

Draco lets out an incredulous scoff. “Five years and you ask me if I’m _alright_?” Harry finds himself gaping again, and promptly shuts his mouth, lips pressed in a tight line. The blond saves him the trouble of finding a proper response and pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily.

 

“Where the _fuck_ is my car,” he mutters.

 

With a small sigh of relief, Harry relaxes. They’ve walked far enough that the neighbourhood has thinned out, and they’re greeted with a view of the city. The skies are fading into a deep blue, streaked with the soft orange of the setting sun.

 

It’s a lovely night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> charlie puth and arctic monkeys dropped albums today im SHAKING


	4. A Lovely Night

_We’ve stumbled on a view_

_that’s tailor-made for two;_

_what a shame those two are you and me._

 

* * *

 

Draco scans the lines of cars in an attempt to find his. Amongst the Toyota Priuses and other painfully eco-friendly vehicles parked on Hollywood Hills, it doesn’t take long to spot his Riviera convertible. He pauses before setting off for it, turning instead to see Harry taking a seat on the bench. He doesn’t think he’s seen something quite so serene before— the Boy Who Lived, enjoying the rather gorgeous view, unplagued by thoughts of the past.

 

Seemingly, against all odds, they’ve grown up. They’ve matured into weary adults and veterans of war; Draco’s life is no longer marked by the petty desire for revenge. He doubts Harry’s is, either. From here, he sees a tired young man with unruly hair and a crumpled suit, a far cry from the cursed teenager. 

 

He didn’t think he’d see Harry again— certainly not all the way in California. And he tells him this much as he takes a seat by the brunet, facing the city.

 

“If it helps any, I didn’t think so either.” Harry laughs in that breathless way he had in their younger days.

 

Draco spares him a small smile. 

 

“Do you think we ever could have been friends?” He says, altogether against his will, but something about the night is getting to him and he’s burning to know.

 

The other man falls silent, lost in thought. Draco mentally kicks himself for getting lost in the moment—

 

“I’ve never seen the city like this before, have you?” he hears. Pausing, Draco allows himself a moment to think.

 

“It’s a rather nice view,” he concedes. If the brunet doesn’t want to talk about the past, that’s fine. 

 

Harry nods. “Strange that we’d run into each other all the way out here, though.”

 

“Do you think it means something?” And Draco’s back to kicking himself. Of course it doesn’t mean anything— the fates could never be so kind.

 

“No, it’s probably a coincidence.” Harry’s tone isn’t defensive so much as it is contemplative.

 

Draco shakes off any niggling desire to press, and responds more quietly than he’d like. 

 

“That’s what I thought, too.”

 

-

 

Harry regards the blond beside him with a detached interest. Draco looks tired, drained of what little energy he had. 

 

“It’s a lovely night,” he offers, hoping to stay in Draco’s company a little longer.

 

The other man lets out a humourless laugh. “What a pity we’re the ones enjoying it.” Strands of blond hair fall to his face as he leans forward, elbows balanced on his knees.

 

“Yes, it’s all rather…” Harry drifts off, casting a nervous glance at the blond. Draco seems lost in his own world. “… Romantic.”

 

“We’re hardly the romantic sort, Potter.”

 

“Harry.”

 

With a confused chuckle, Draco sits up slightly and looks up at him. “What?”

 

Harry swallows. “Call me Harry.”

 

There’s a long stretch of silence as Draco eyes him wearily. Harry doesn’t mind the quiet, usually, but it sags over them as time drags on. He shifts uncomfortably, gaze falling to Draco’s slightly parted lips. 

 

The moment is broken by Harry’s obnoxiously loud ringtone. Sighing, he fishes around in his bag for the device, not caring for his annoyed tone as he answers. 

 

It turns out to be a commercial call, which does nothing to assuage his mood. Draco’s standing up, looking at the city.

 

From here, Harry can remember why he felt heartbroken at the blond’s childhood malice. 

 

“Have a good night, Potter,” Draco says quietly.

 

Harry doesn’t bother replying, instead turning his attention to the darkening sky and the sounds of Draco’s footsteps padding away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mfw i have 8 exams next week and they're HL bio, chem, and SL french,,,, i'll keep posting what i have, but there might be a gap in updates. i h a t e ib bye thank you for giving my trash a chance


	5. Harry's Habit

_It’s conflict, it’s compromise, and it’s just.. it’s new every time, brand new every night, and it’s very, very exciting._

 

* * *

 

Harry saw a lot more of Draco after that night. With classic Potter Grace™, he’d visit the man on the job, and slowly, had felt him warm up to his presence. He didn’t want to reinstate their old rivalry— quite the contrary. He wanted Draco to work with him and lend his voice to the club.

 

Evelyn had come with him to _Aaron’s_ that night, eyes sparkling with mischief while she bounced on her toes.

 

“I’m dying to meet this Sebastian guy,” she had squealed. “You’ve been out here all sus and now you’re gonna introduce us to your _boyfriend—“_

 

_“—_ I told you, he’s not my boyfriend.” 

 

She had stuck out her tongue in a cheeky manner, sweeping her hair over her shoulder.

 

Now, however, she’s not cheeky so much as astutely offended.

 

Harry’s never been more mortified in his life.

 

“Draco, what the _fuck_?”

 

-

 

“So,” he says quietly, taking a careful gulp of his beer. “You’re related.”

 

Draco flushes, visible even under the neon blue lights. “She’s a distant cousin,” he mumbled.

 

“How have I not seen him?” The quiet jazz does nothing to calm the buzzing in his nerves.

 

Evelyn’s expression changes to one of exasperation. “He moved out before you even landed.”

 

Harry scowls, but decides to let the matter go. The time apart has given them the opportunity to grow up. He’s kind of glad he didn’t meet Malfoy so soon after parting ways at Hogwarts.

 

“Well,” Draco starts reluctantly. “I don’t really see why it’s a big deal. It’s not like Potter and I are anything more than future coworkers.”

 

At that, Evelyn stiffens visibly. 

 

“You sure about that?” 

 

Harry spares a confused glance at Draco before squinting at the model over his glasses. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I mean, now that I know who you both talk to me about, I think I should leave you two to talk things out,” she says. “I’ll be back in ten.”

 

With that, she slides off her barstool, heading towards the crowd. 

 

Draco looks at Harry.

 

Harry looks at Draco.

 

“You talked to her about—?”

 

“—Me? No, she must have—!”

 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly—“

 

“—That is, to say, of course,”

 

“I mean, it’s not like we’re—“

 

“Certainly _not_ , Potter—“

 

“It’s _Harry_ ,”

 

“Harry, fine, you jazz-loving idiot—“

 

“ _You’re_ a jazz-loving idiot—“

 

“You prat, I never said I wasn’t,”

 

“Ah-ha! So you admit you’re an idiot?”

 

“ _Harry._ ”

 

Draco’s eyes are shut tight, his fists clenched by his sides. Promptly shutting his mouth, Harry cocks his head to the side, waiting for the blond to continue.

 

“You fancy me,” he says, opening his eyes slowly. A tense silence falls between them as Harry tries to find a way to respond in the least incriminating manner.

 

He fails, of course.

 

“Guh.” He clears his throat. “I. Yes.” 

 

To his surprise, Draco’s furrowed eyebrows relax, and his confidence seems to pop back in his body. 

 

The drawl returns.

 

“You’re bloody well lucky I’ve taken a liking to you too.”

 

-

 

Evelyn returns to see the two boys giggling. Harry’s leaning across the countertop towards Draco, magnetized by the her cousin’s presence. Similarly, Draco is being grabby, fingers tracing random patterns on the brunet’s forearms. 

 

“—I’ve got a set now,” she hears as she approaches. “Wait for me?”

 

Draco barely spares her a glance, eyes trained only on the man in front of him. Harry nods, and with that, Evelyn witnesses a smile she nearly forgot ever existed. 

 

It’s a gentle smile, a far cry from his usual sneer. It’s genuine, warm, _human_. It’s the soft curve of his lips, the way a certain light reaches his eyes. 

 

The moment passes, and Draco brushes past her on his way to the stage, gaze cool and collected.

 

Evelyn turns her attention to the brunet beside her. “I take it that was ten minutes well spent?”

 

Harry only sits with a stupidly happy grin on his face, letting out a dreamy sigh when Draco starts singing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright folks hi please hit me with a shovel if i post anytime between now and thursday tytyty


	6. City of Stars - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for my absence! after exams, i had my electronics taken away from me and only recently got them back. not gonna lie, finishing this fic was hard with nothing to motivate me, but it's done now! no more hiatuses with it. 
> 
> still unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

_Who knows?_

_Is this the start of something wonderful and new?_

_Or one more dream that I cannot make true?_

 

* * *

 

Harry is _floating_.

 

(Metaphorically, of course, though a quick _Wingardium Leviosa_ could make it literal.)

 

If someone had told him five to ten years ago that he’d be head over heels for Draco Malfoy, he’d probably hex them to hell and back. They were enemies. Arch-nemeses. Rivals for life.

 

And yet, two sides of the same coin.

 

There’s a persistent itch at the nape of his neck. No matter how much he tries to scratch it, it sinks deeper into his bones, an unbearable twinge that makes him want to scream and release the gaping blackness below his lungs. 

 

The discomfort fades slightly when he feels the soft brush of Draco’s hair in his fingers or hears the familiar, sarcastic drawl in his ears. In a sense, Draco is the cause and alleviation of Harry’s suffering, and what can he make of that?

 

It’s been a few weeks since they got their shit together, and a glorious few weeks at that. With summer approaching, he’s riding a jazzy high and feels nearly unstoppable. 

 

Draco pokes Harry on the nose lightly with a soft _boop_ , bringing him out of his thoughts. They’re tangled together beneath the sheets of his bed, only the quiet sounds of breathing keeping them company. 

 

1:29 AM.

 

“Your thoughts are so noisy,” he whispers. 

 

With a lazy grin, Harry cranes his neck and presses a soft kiss against Draco’s forehead. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, be better. Go to sleep.”

 

_Don’t be sorry, I’m worried about you._

 

Harry sighs and closes his eyes.


	7. Summer

_People love what other people are passionate about._

 

* * *

 

_June 14._

 

“Draco, Draco, Draco,” Harry drunkenly chants, arm thrown clumsily around his boyfriend’s shoulders. They’re out with Evelyn and Elijah, enjoying LA nightlife’s finest destination at 3 AM: McDonald’s. “Wherever would I be without you?”

 

Draco lets out a giggle— Draco Malfoy, _giggling_ — and holds a chicken nugget up to Harry’s lips. “Staaarving.”

 

“Mmf,” is all Harry responds with as he closes his mouth around the nugget and tip of Draco’s thumb, swirling his tongue around.

 

“Get a room,” Elijah drawls, popping a fry into his mouth. Evelyn gasps dramatically before bursting into giggles, and Draco thinks that everything might still work out.

 

-

 

_July 4._

 

“I love you,” Draco blurts out as he pulls back from their kiss for air, fireworks still exploding in the night sky.

 

Harry’s got a wild look in his eyes, and with a gasped _Draco_ , he pulls the blond in again. 

 

There’s sand everywhere, the night is a little too warm, and the fireworks burn bright through the skin of his eyelids, but in this moment, nothing matters except for Harry.

 

“I love you,” Draco says again, more confidently, and Harry’s mouthing _I love you I love you I love you_ on his lips, and everything is _perfect_.

 

-

 

_July 28._

 

“I think I kind of miss the old days,” Draco mused, head in Harry’s lap while he plays Silent Hill 2 in Draco’s flat. If the muggles got anything right, it was video games. Brilliant. “You know? When we were kids.”

 

Harry makes a non-committal sound, choosing instead to mash viciously at the buttons on the controller. When the Game Over screen card appears, he sets the controller aside and pokes Draco’s nose lightly.

 

“You mean when you said my last name as contemptuously as you could?”

 

“ _Potter_ ,” Draco pulls his signature sneer, then breaks out into a smile when Harry lets out a snort of laughter. “You thought Draco was a weird name!”

 

Harry laughs again. “To be fair, it kind of is.”

 

Draco can’t find it in himself to argue, not with Harry running fingers through his hair. Everything is fine, just like this.

 

\- 

 

_August 12._

 

“ _If you miss the A-train, you’ll find you missed the quickest way to Harlem_ ,” Draco sings, body vibrating with the melody in his bones.

 

Eyes closed in bliss, Harry’s dances among the group of club-goers. He loves this: the jazz, the vibe, Draco’s blessed vocals, still slightly hoarse from last night’s activities, and the knowledge that everything will be okay.


	8. City of Stars - Part II

_A look in somebody’s eyes_

_to light up the skies,_

_to open the world and send it reeling;_

_a voice that says, ‘I’ll be here,_

_and you’ll be alright.’_

 

* * *

 

“I got a job offer in France,” Draco says, shocking Harry out of his stupor. 

 

They’re in Draco’s flat, eating Chinese takeout on the couch and watching _Rebel Without A Cause_. Or, Harry is, since evidently, Draco was thinking about a job offer in France. Job offer. France. Halfway across the entire world. A job.

 

“Oh,” is all Harry manages, ripping his eyes away from James Dean and fixing his boyfriend with a blank look. Inside, a current of indiscernible emotion floods his veins.

 

“‘Oh’? Is that it?”

 

“What do you want me to say?”

 

He’s being combative, he realizes, and presses the pause button more forcefully than he’d like to. He’s combative because he’s angry and angry because he’s hurt and _oh, no,_ Draco’s lip is curling and he’s moving away and—

 

“Maybe show a bit more interest, I don’t know. ‘Why’ is a good start. This came out of nowhere and your only reaction is ‘ _oh_ ’?”

 

Harry’s mind is a torrential downpour of questions.

 

“Sorry if I’m still trying to process a fucking _bomb_ dropped on my head,” he grits out, fingers pressing half-moons into the skin of his palms.

 

Draco lets out an incredulous snort. “A ‘bomb’? I just said—“

 

“— I know what you said, _Draco_ ,”

 

“ _Don’t_ do that.”

 

“I—?” Harry blinks. “What?”

 

The blond’s expression is unreadable. “Don’t say my name like it’s some sort of weapon.”

 

A beat of silence. Harry thinks he gets it, almost.

 

“Then tell me why you’re fucking off to France.”

 

With a slow exhale, Draco stands up and heads towards the kitchen, where he gets out a tumbler. Harry feels paralyzed as he watches the man pour a drink, then knock it back with minimal finesse.

 

“First off,” he says, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, “I’m not fucking off anywhere yet. I’m _considering_ an offer from Zabini Corp to be a financial advisor.”

 

“But you—“

 

“—Hush. I know. Blaise knows that I’ve grown up speaking finance; it won’t be terribly difficult, and healing wasn’t for me anyways.”

 

Harry feels a cold numbness seep into his bones, one that placates the uncomfortable itch that’s spread to every fibre of his being. He knows what this job means. Knows that if— when— Draco accepts, he’ll be going back to wizarding society, away from LA and jazz, away from his own independence. Knows that Draco has grown up, that he’s done, and doesn’t _that_ just sting. 

 

Or maybe Draco hasn’t grown up, and he wants to. Either way, he’s running away from _Aaron’s_. From Harry.

 

Harry almost lets out a disbelieving scoff as the dots connect in his mind. _Draco Malfoy is a coward_. 

 

Too uncertain of his future in LA, so he’d rather leave it all behind. The _irony_. Harry forces down a guffaw at the notion.

 

Finally, the blond turns to face him, setting the tumbler aside and leaning against the counter while levelling Harry with a determined gaze from across the room.

 

“Do you want to go?” 

 

_Do you really want to leave this behind?_

 

_Are you that scared?_

 

_Abandon everything you’ve built for yourself here?_

 

_Do you want to leave me?_

 

“I thought you’d be happy for me,” Draco says, almost too quietly for Harry to hear. Harry stands and strides towards the blond, gathering him in his arms as he tries not to let the tears fall. Draco doesn’t resist, but he doesn’t return the hug either, and Harry’s icy numbness begins to crack.

 

“When did this happen?” 

 

This. This insurmountable distance between them. This terrible cold freezing over the itch, their grasp on each other only fortified by a mere thread. 

 

“I love you,” Harry whispers. They haven’t talked it out much, but they don’t need to. Harry understands, much as he’d rather not. “It’s okay, I love you.”

 

With a broken sob, Draco just wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and buries his head in the crook of his neck.

 

-

 

_A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave._

 

What a shame— Draco’s never been brave.

 

But he’s been in love. Harry loves him, he loves Harry, and he knows that just like he knows that up is up and down is down and _he loves Harry Potter_.

 

“It’s okay, I love you,” Harry murmurs in his ear, defeated and accepting. The words get lodged in Draco’s throat, incapable of escaping as anything more than a pathetic sound. 

 

_I don’t want to go._

 

_I love you too._


	9. The Fools Who Dream

_Here’s to the fools who dream,_

_crazy as they may seem._

_Here’s to the hearts we break;_

_here’s to the mess we make._

 

* * *

 

“I think I’ll always love you,” Harry says, looking over the city. They’re at Hollywood Hills again, sitting on the same park bench.

 

Draco smiles softly at him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

 

_I think I’ll aways love you too._

 

Over the years, Draco has let people in and out of his life. He lets them in long enough to get attached, but they never seem to want to stay. Except Harry, of course, but Draco’s the one running away this time. 

 

They don’t kiss, nor remind themselves of the dreams they hope to pursue. _Aaron’s_ is going to become _Harry’s_ , and Draco is going to France. 

 

That’s that, really.

 

_You’ll haunt me every single day you’re gone,_ he wants to say.

 

“Wait for me,” he asks instead, knowing full well how impossible it is.

 

Harry tears his eyes from the view. “I’m sorry.”

 

He has nothing to apologize for. No, Harry Potter is going to live on because that’s what Harry Potter _does_. He’s going to move on and become successful with his jazz club and live larger than life with Evelyn and Elijah. He’s going to grow old having worked more jobs than he can count, impacted more lives than he can imagine. Love saved him at one point in his life, but his own love can’t keep the people he treasures.

 

Harry Potter is starting a new chapter without Draco Malfoy, and it _hurts_. But he doesn’t need to apologize. 

 

Draco stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets. It’s a lovely day; another day of sun.

 

“Goodbye, Harry.”

 

Harry doesn’t bother replying, turning his attention back to the cityscape. There’s nothing he can say now that will dispel the rock lodged in his throat. He remains unmoving through the sounds of Draco’s footsteps fading away and unblinking as the tears well up in his eyes.

 

_Goodbye, Draco._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're nearing the end of this piece of shit, so i just wanna take a quick moment to thank you for the kudos and comments :) i never expected to get over 2 hits, so i'm kinda wilding that it has over 500. thank you for sticking around while i stress-write; i appreciate it a lot <3


	10. Epilogue

_The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places._

 

* * *

 

“—Welcome to Harry’s,” he nearly whispers into the microphone, eyes locked with the blond in the center of the room.

 

Draco nods minutely, hand in hand with a woman Harry’s never seen before. Elijah raises a brow as Harry takes a seat at the piano, goosebumps chilling him to his core. After a small exchange of glances with Evelyn from off-stage, Elijah shifts in his chair and morosely stares down his trumpet. Jessy moves away from the piano too, grip on his upright bass tightening slightly. This is Harry’s set, now.

 

Harry plunges into a memory of “eighth” year, where he was learning piano with Flitwick. Draco had been outside the music room, waiting to ask a question about their Charms homework. That day, Harry had been learning some tips for improvisation, and he had come out of the classroom only to be pulled aside by the blond.

 

_“Play something for me,”_ Draco had said, a strange look on his face. Mourning, regret, and desire were the only features Harry could pick out, but he didn’t stare long enough or bother asking for details. 

 

Harry had been working on fleshing out a melody floating around in his head, so with one hand, he played what he had so far. Draco had nodded and sat next to Harry. Eyes narrowed in concentration, he played chords to accompany Harry’s melody. 

 

“ _Music theory,_ ” he had muttered. “ _I was classically trained._ ”

 

Charms homework forgotten, the two sat at the piano and worked out a hauntingly beautiful tune. In that hour, Harry and Draco were not bitter rivals, nor old enemies from a war, but just that: Harry and Draco. Two lone boys on the cusp of adulthood, wanting nothing more than to rewind time and live with the people they loved.

 

Harry plays that melody now. Clearly, Draco’s moved on. Six years can do that to you. He’s got a wife now, if her ring finger is anything to go by. Maybe even a kid. 

 

His mind drifts off. Draco chose to move on, leaving Harry to pick up the pieces of his heart. Draco chose that. Not him. 

 

And now they're nearing thirty.

 

_“I think I’m always gonna love you.”_

 

It’s true, at least now. Harry’s never stopped loving Draco. And maybe Draco loves him too. He doesn’t need to tell him that he loves him; he doubts he’ll ever even get the chance to say it again. But that’s okay.

 

In this city of stars speckling a midnight sky, it’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for the support! just finished my final school exam today, so that's two months of stress almost done! aka no more motivation to work on this lol
> 
> next week is grad week, then i'm off to europe for vacation. i probably won't be writing anything substantial until august (july is a five week french camp oof), so this is it for me till then. 
> 
> much love,  
> amy <3

**Author's Note:**

> yell at/with me on [tumblr](http://halfblooddunce.tumblr.com/) or [twitter!](http://twitter.com/rxtrogression/)


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